


Turn Your Head and Cough

by alwaysthrowsscissors, Wearingdeantoprom



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Probing, Anal Sex, Brother/Brother Incest, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Love, Dean Winchester is So Done, Doctor Sexy M.D. (Supernatural), Doctor/Patient, Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, First Time Bottoming, Kind of Dean/OMC, M/M, Medical Kink, Medical Procedures, Medical Professionals, Multiple Orgasms, Prostate Examinations, Prostate Milking, Sam Winchester is a Little Shit, Top Sam Winchester, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 10:41:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30138342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwaysthrowsscissors/pseuds/alwaysthrowsscissors, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wearingdeantoprom/pseuds/Wearingdeantoprom
Summary: "“Breathe in Mr. Bonham,” the doctor said, coming at him with his stethoscope, placing it on top of the gown right under his anti-possession tattoo.Dean jumped, inhaling in surprise at how damn cold the instrument was through the thin material. “Well you’re right to it, aren’t you. Wham bam thank you ma-am… or Sir...uh…”"Or the fic where Dean comes face to face with his very own Dr. Sexy. When things get embarrassing, Sam might never let him live it down... But that might be a good thing.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 18





	Turn Your Head and Cough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [outoftheashes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/outoftheashes/gifts).



> Happy birthday Tori!!!
> 
> Scissors and I teamed up to write this for our dear friend Tori/Outoftheashes for her birthday! This is a crackish idea that we fleshed out in chat with her one night for fun. We added a bit of sexy flare just for her.

Dean’s knee bounced anxiously as he waited to be called to a smaller, scarier room. He was in a doctor’s office of all things, wondering how the hell he had gotten roped into this. Oh yeah, it was his stupid brother and friend who had made this happen. They were investigating a case and needed someone to rule the receptionist out. Upon coming to the realization that Dean hadn’t had a physical in some years, i.e. _never_ , he had been volun-told.

“Bonham, Dean,” the receptionist called. She led him to a sterile white room with creepy medical posters. He thought leaving the conspicuous waiting room would ease his tension; he was wrong.

“The nurse will be here in a moment to take your vitals.” The nurse came and went, carrying away vials of Dean’s blood, leaving him to undress and put on a hospital gown. He felt even more vulnerable without his plaid armor and left his boxers on for modesty’s sake. He was in the process of inspecting a weird-ass sculpture of a torso with removable organs, when there was a sharp rap at the door. It opened before he could respond.

“Mr. Bonham, how are you doing today?” The doctor was looking down at Dean’s chart, not bothering to make eye contact as he greeted him.

“Uhh.” Dean jerked away from the sculpture, accidentally knocking the organs out of it. “Oh fuck-” He bent to pick up the pieces and tried to put them back in, but who knew the goddamn torso had so many organs in it.

“Just leave that and have a seat.” The doctor gestured to the paper-covered medical table, an edge of impatience in his voice.

Dean dumped the rest of the plastic organs onto the counter and awkwardly hopped up onto the table. He clapped his hands together. “Who needs to know where all that goes if you’re not a doc, amirite, Doc?”

The doctor regarded him with a blank expression. “I’m Doctor Anderson, it says here that you’re here for a physical?” 

“Um, yeah. But as you can see, I’m in peak condition. So why not just write on your pad there that I’m awesome and let me walk, yeah?” Dean asked with a grin.

“Breathe in Mr. Bonham,” the doctor said, coming at him with his stethoscope, placing it on top of the gown right under his anti-possession tattoo.

Dean jumped, inhaling in surprise at how damn cold the instrument was through the thin material. “Well you’re right to it, aren’t you. Wham bam thank you ma-am… or Sir...uh…”

At least this got an amused eyebrow raise. “Try not to speak.” The doctor moved the stethoscope around listening to his lungs and heart. Dean grumbled a little but kept his mouth shut. Once quiet, Dean couldn’t help but focus on how stupid, vulnerable, and child-like he felt with his legs dangling off the floor, practically naked. His gun was tightly wrapped up in his balled-up clothes on the one chair in the room. He was left with no defense but his wit. Dean was treating the doctor to a nice little drum solo, his heart beating faster the more anxious he got.

“Do you smoke?” The doctor began pressing his fingertips under his jaw, something Dean learned how to do to Sammy when he was sick and he suspected swollen glands.

“Nope,” Dean replied, lifting his chin a little to allow the doctor access. Now that he was forced to look at him, the guy was actually kind of hot, in a rigid, disinfected sort of way. Certainly thinking with his dick always helped calm the nerves.

“How much alcohol do you drink?” He stepped away from Dean to grab some other creepy medical thing.

“Uhh is that a trick question?” Dean asked, chuckling. A little grey at the temples. Strong jaw. Bossy…Dean could kind of get on board with Dr. Anderson…or behind him.

“Just try to be honest Mr. Bonham, how many drinks per week?” He used the instrument to look in Dean’s ears that ended up being fairly ticklish. He felt Anderson’s breath ghost against his neck as he leaned in to get a good look

Dean’s shoulders rose as he tried not to squirm. “Uuhhh… like… a quarter of a bottle of whiskey a night.” or more depending on which way the sky was falling that week.

The doctor paused in his administrations and blinked at him. “Yeah, that’s a lot, Mr. Bonham, try to cut that back.” He put a big popsicle stick near Dean’s mouth before he could respond. “Open up and say _ahhh._ ”

Dean opened his mouth obediently “AAHHHGGGH” When the flat wooden strangely tasteless thing hit his tongue, Dean tried to speak around it. “Aaahg, uckgig wikew”

The stick retreated and was thrown in the trash. “Take your gown off, please.”

“Whoa, whoa, buy me dinner first, Doc.” Dean said, raising his hand in defense.

Anderson opened his mouth quickly but seemed to think better of whatever he was going to say. He sighed before saying: “I need to check you over for any skin abnormalities.” 

“Dude my skin is good,” Dean told him.

The doctor sighed again more heavily. “I still need you to take it off and lay down.”

“That’s what she said,” Dean tittered nervously. The doctor just stared at him blankly. “Yeah, ok, ok…” Dean took off the gown and tossed it aside before moving to lay down on the exam table.

Dean shivered a bit and he wasn't sure if it was entirely from the fact that the office was cold as fuck. Anderson’s gaze raked over his chest and torso before he started palpating his abdomen, pressing here and there feeling for God knows what. His hands were pleasantly warm and soft. Dean began rhyming off distracting exorcism incantations in his head as he began pressing lower and lower.“Let me know if anything hurts,” he murmured. If the doc thought anything of Dean’s scars and strange, dark tattoo, he hid it with silence and a blank expression.

Dean hissed a little, flinching as the doctor made his way to his ribs. They were almost healed after being bruised by a particularly violent ghost the week before last, but his probing fingers were now uncomfortable. “Easy there Doc. Was boxing with my brother a week or so back.”

Anderson eyed Dean a little warily, but then apparently accepted this as a reasonable explanation. “Alright, you may sit up. Are you sexually active?”

“Am I ever,” Dean replied, chuckling nervously. 

“How many sexual partners have you had this past year?” 

“Just one,” Dean said with a grin. “I know right? Guy like me… but I uh… settled down.”

“You practice safe sex with your partner?”

“Depends on what your definition of safe is,” Dean said with a wink. 

The doc actively ignored him. “Ok, the next part is the part no one likes. I need you to stand and remove your underwear so that I can check your testicular health and, based on your age, I’ll be doing a prostate exam.” He moved away from the table and started snapping gloves on.

Dean’s eyes widened, heart rate rabbiting up again. “Uhh why the rubbers Doc?”

“Do you want me touching your genitals with my bare hands? You do know what a prostate exam entails, right?” The doctor was now doing a pretty piss poor job at hiding his impatience.

“Nope you’re going to be popping my proverbial prostate exam cherry. So what, just a little ball handling to make sure everything's good down there, then I throw my pants back on?” Honestly, if some random doc had to feel him up at least it was a hot random doc.

“Well, yes, I will be feeling your testicles for any lumps or swelling and then I will be inserting a finger inside of your rectum to check your prostate. It will feel like some pressure and cause some discomfort but it shouldn’t hurt. Please stand, put your gown back on, and remove your underwear.”

“Yeah um… yeah, no, I don’t let… people mess around back there so how bout we just pretend we did that and you put on your little chart there that my prostate is the best damn prostate you’ve seen.”

“It’s a preventative measure Mr. Bonham. Small changes in the prostate need to be tracked to make sure you stay healthy. It’s just a body part, it takes less than two minutes.” He had his arms folded across his chest, his body language screamed stop wasting my time.

Dean stared him down a little before his shoulders dropped in concession. He grabbed his gown and put it on and paused a moment. _Come on Dean… Just take one for the team..._ He took a deep breath and dropped his boxers. “You sure no dinner first?”

Anderson sat on a little padded, wheeled, stool and nudged Dean’s knee a little indicating to spread his legs more. Dean tried not to wince as his cool gloved hand cupped his testicles. He then had to endure the doc rubbing both balls individually, which...okay so that was kind of nice…“Cough please.”

Dean obeyed, shifting a little. “How about drinks?”

Anderson sighed, rolling his eyes, losing all semblance of decorum. “Trust me Mr. Bonham, you may think you’ve got good material, but I’ve heard it all countless times. Now please turn around and lean over the table.” He stood and pumped something into his gloved hands. Dean eyed the industrial sized container of what he assumed was lube and turned woodenly, doing as the doctor asked.

“Try to relax,” Anderson instructed and gently placed his finger tip against Dean’s hole. “I'm going to insert my finger now.” He slipped his finger inside.

Dean did not relax.

His whole body went rigid with the intrusion. “You sure you only used one finger?” Dean grit out through clenched teeth.

“Yes. I know it's uncomfortable, just try to breathe through your mouth.”

Dean tried but he found himself gasping for breath, his anxiety ramping up because… damn… it was uncomfortable but it was also… It felt kinda ok. Pretty fucking alright, actually. Then Anderson hooked his finger slightly and found Dean’s prostate, rubbing it in small circles.

Dean gritted his teeth, clenching further because holy shit that made him see stars a little. “Everything ok there, D-Doc?”

“Please try to relax,” he repeated, “if you clench it's difficult for me to finish my examination.”

Dean puffed a breath and tried to relax but Anderson’s finger was still snug up against that sweet spot. It was like he forgot how to breathe. 

“Deep breaths, Mr. Bonham, and this will be over.”

Finally, Dean managed to take a few gulping breaths and relaxed his muscles a little. He hoped that the good doctor didn’t notice how his goddamn toes were curling on the linoleum floor.

“That’s it, a bit more pressure and we're done.” He pushed his fingertip into the bundle of nerves and slid his finger, gliding around the perimeter.

With that, Dean's balls drew up and he came with a groan, shooting up against the underneath of the table and across the once pristine floor. It didn’t take long for him to realize what happened and he froze in mortification. “Fuck-”

The doctor withdrew his finger and cleared his throat. He stood and offered Dean a tissue box. “It happens, Mr. Bonham,” he said emotionlessly, removing his gloves.

Dean Winchester was not typically a man who embarrassed easily, but his face was burning as he reached for his boxers. “Are we uh… done?”

“Yes. I'm not seeing anything to worry about and we will let you know if anything shows up in your blood work. Just try to lay off the booze, ok?” He finished writing on Dean’s chart, gave him a tight-lipped smile and left the room.

Dean took longer than normal to get dressed as he gathered himself as much as his things. He passed the Nurse in the hall and then had to speak to the receptionist to pay. “Uh… sorry about the…” He twirled his finger in the air, took his card back from her, and high tailed it out of there like the Impala was on fire.


End file.
